Yo, this tangled web we weave, you know I'm sayin'
We judge based on what only we believe
And not on what God believe, all of us man we just people
We're just trying to get through this thing called life, man

All of us made mistakes, keepin' making mistakes
We made being conscious into a religion instead of a tool man
I was trapped deep in this judgmental thing too
I'ma come at it like this

I had some thoughts about the black conscious scene
The red, the black, the green, Afrocentric routine
Whether we be consciously or sub-consciously aware or keen
Or just knocked on conscious

Now of course it's great to feel great about your race
Your nose, your face, your country, even your state
Your spicy foods, your unique attitudes
What makes me, me and you, you

But all roots come from just one source, the Creator
That's the missing link that justified having slaves for the enslaver
Thinking one is lesser and the others greater
One's lost, the other the savior

On the conscious scene, you'll find more greetings instead
Than in a Hallmark store, where hellos are said
And the brother nods his head and what's next is his fist to his chest
How you doing God? Oh I'm blessed
In the conscious scene there's more blessed human beings
Than there is grass that's green, at least that's how it seems
Bingo, sayin' blessed has become just lingo
'Cuz stressed is how it really goes
And we think deep down and when no one else is around

In the conscious scene we take things to the extreme
We won't call a sista, sista, we call the sista queen
But a queen is royalty so we should treat her that way
But if you ask does she feel like a queen, I wonder what she'd say

If she's conscious, she'd probably say I'm blessed, I guess
Even if her relationship's a mess
In the conscious scene we don't confess
Anything that's not perfect

It don't mean wack stuff ain't goin' on
We just quilt our covers to be strong
And cover up
And [Incomprehensible] our seemingly righteous wrongs

Now the conscious scene will judge you quick
If you now use rollers when you used to use a pick or opposite
One day a perm, the next all natural
But what change did you're heart undergo?
Is the good heart determined by a Fro?
What if the KKK wore Fro's would dey suddenly have soul?
If I don't hug you on both sides am I truly off balance?
If I shake with my left hand did I truly disrespect the man?
Man o man, it's hard to be a conscious African

If you're conscious of the double stand
I mean double standards, understand?
Oops, I mean over stand there it goes again
I guess it's just the way of the world or may be just the way of the words

Speakin' of words, the conscious scene is ain't down wit the way
Tupac and Biggie did dey things, now ain't that sumpin'?
They're just more blatant wit their womanizing statements
While we're more slick but will make booty calls just as quick
Like Atari both of us controlled solely by our joysticks

We diss the white man for being so materialistic
Yet we the only ones going ballistic to get his materials
We ice friends to make cream
We pass around a pipe just to have a dream, yeah God

I know God is higher than we are
But not higher than we are, get it?

We can stop callin' each other n***as
But won't guns still have triggers?
And won't our hands still have fingers
And won't we still be finger lickin', eatin' chicken black folks?
We must be proud of our roots but there is no substitute
For the fact we're all wack
Whether white, Jewish, Asian, Hispanic, Indian or black

The truth is we're all ruthless
And our love is as conditional as medical insurance
And without the man Jesus we're hopeless

I say the man not the slave ship
But the one spoke of in God's manuscript
And not the one painted wit a pale face at yo grandma's crib
And surely not the one at dem churches that's all preach and no live

If we're gonna be conscious, let's start really being conscious
About treatin' our wives with respect not takin' dey welfare checks
And start puttin' all fake jokas in straight up check
No more thinkin' wit our joysticks

No more takin' chick flicks at freak nic
While we way that the white man is so sick
'Cuz until we stop bein' such hypocrites
We gonna continue to be knocked on conscious, can you dig it?

I been wonderin', isn't it for us to wrong?
Standin' out here all alone when we can go home
I been wonderin', isn't it for us to cry
Makin moves just to get by, seachin' for the light

I been wonderin', isn't it for us to wrong?
Standin' out here all alone when we can go home
I been wonderin', isn't it for us to cry
Makin' moves just to get by, seachin' for the light